My cat Blue is doing a bang up job channeling Freyja here. This is absolutely how Freyja has been lately, all judgy and pissy and annoyed. Same, girl, same.

The tension around me is overly intense, and it’s wearing me out. Freyja and Loki haven’t given up on their spat and intrusions, and they’re giving each other the cold shoulder silent treatment with me stuck in the middle. More than once, I’ve spent the last few days asking people what it’s like to honor a God or gods who keep their distance, at least for a little bit. Loki’s in such a snit I actually screamed the other day. “WHO DIED AND MADE YOU JEHOVAH?!” I need a break from my own life.

I’ve also made several inquiries to people around me who, when I bitch about this, how they are so unfazed and nonchalant about this insanity. I tell the weirdest fucking stories, and nobody bats an eye. In fact, my nonheathen friends who have been listening to this annoyance are all saying they feel bad for Loki in this. Freyja’s not getting any love from any of my pals at this point. I’m torn, myself. The twerp is my boy, but I’m not about to tell the Queen of the Valkyries to go fuck herself. Because yikes. And also, I kind of want to hear her out. She’s not trying to interfere with the oaths between me and Himself, but I guess trying to remind Loki of the finer points of said oaths. It’s interesting, to say the least.

I spent the day yesterday with a good friend (G, the mead maker extraordinaire whose candle votive exploded when I was invited to the kindred) at an outdoor arts festival, helping him sell honey he harvested from his dearly departed bees (monsoon season in this area isn’t kind to the little buggers). Naturally, he brought some of his mead, and in a moment of quiet, I paused over the horn to dedicate a drink to Freyja, kind of an acknowledgment and peace offering. For lack of a better descriptor, Loki popped up in an intense energy burst at my shoulder, whining about the fact that plum mead is sweet and sugary, so it should be his drink. It was such a sudden, intense “appearance” that I reacted physically, jumping and shooting a dirty look over my right shoulder at nothing. An old friend of G’s saw this and was watching me with mild curiosity. Because I’m an open book and pretty much incapable of lying, I blurted out exactly what had just happened. “I know I’m insane, I’m sorry, it’s crazy, believe me, I know.” Oh, I was mortified and wanted to just hide under the table and plot my escape.

She shrugged. “Nah, it’s whatever.” To be fair, she’s known G for a long time, so I suspect she’s heard and seen it all at this point. Still, I wouldn’t mind learning how to rein it in a bit and try to at least pretend to have a vaguely quiet, normal interaction with other humans every now and then. But hey, my madness helped sell a lot of honey yesterday, so at least G is making out like a bandit. Then again, we drank 3 bottles of mead in the process, so I’m also making out like a bandit. A beleaguered bandit tired of whatever the fuck is going on with the gods I hold dear, but a happy mead-soaked bandit nonetheless.

G is having a similar deal with Freyja these days. She seems to be on a tear lately, snapping at our fulltruis about backing off and letting us live our own lives for ourselves for a hot minute, and we’re both kind of wrestling with it. I can’t speak for him of course, but I’ve been super happy with my boy and I’ve been exponentially happier and feeling much more purpose in my life since oathing myself to him. I certainly have no intention to tweak the oath; boundaries were laid out before I committed, but he seems to be trying to readjust those boundaries, which is why Freyja’s on a bit of a rampage. The trust is there, to be sure, but still. Like I said, I’m on Loki’s side, but I still want to hear Freyja out.

Or maybe just have a normal day, normal interactions, and no metaphysical drama. Just for a few hours. I’m helping with honey sales again today at the arts fest, so maybe, just maybe, G and I and whoever else shows up can just enjoy some mead and geek out about bees without either of us dealing with some cosmic catfights.